Midnight Beauties (Grim Lovelies 2)

He sank back into the throne, tossing a costume ermine stole around his shoulders. Cricket continued to whisper and cast with her hands, and the snow continued to fall.

“If the Noirceur fractured into magic and technology and the vitae echo, how can it still be present in the world?” Luc said.

“Ah, yes. Consider the tree that produces three apples: The tree does not vanish once it has fruited. Neither did the Noirceur. It lingered in the form of chaos, like the roots of a tree. The legendary King Svatyr and Queen Mid Ruath of the Starfire Court came together, dressed in enviable cloaks of bearskin—?so the rumor goes—?and led a spell that uprooted the remaining Noirceur. They trapped it in a clock five thousand years ago.”

Viggo snorted. “There weren’t clocks that long ago.” He turned to the others. “Are we sure this kid is right in the head?”

Jak considered Viggo with an unimpressed air. “It is best to shut your mouth, lovely, if you do not know what you’re talking about.” He stood, threw off the ermine stole, picked up several of the Nutcracker dolls, and arranged them on the set. He cast a whisper and the dolls began to move on their own in a stiff dance.

He spoke faster, a thrill flashing in his eyes as he commanded the dolls. “As long as there have been people, there have been ways to track time. Even the earliest Pretties learned to thrust a stick in the ground and use it to follow the sun’s movements. The early Royals, of course, had more sophisticated means.” He twisted his hands and the dolls began to pick up the rectangular presents under the artificial Christmas tree and arrange them in a circle. Most of the presents stood upright, and a few pairs were joined together by a third present on top.

Cricket was still whispering to keep the snow falling, but her eyes were heavy-lidded. She was getting tired.

“That looks like Stonehenge,” Luc said.

“It is Stonehenge.” Jak leaned over his creation, cackling in delight. He cast another whisper, and the flashlight that Viggo had been using switched on by itself and levitated into the air. It created an effect like the sun rising over the model of Stonehenge. Shadows elongated and shrank as the flashlight-sun crossed the sky.

“Stonehenge already existed at the time of Queen Mid Ruath and King Svatyr, and it was already shrouded in mystery. They used tricks and whispers to trap the Noirceur within the circle of stones. Even today, Pretty tourists who wander into the ring say they can feel its odd energy.”

“But we felt the Noirceur at Anouk’s engagement party,” Luc pressed. “The witches used it to get in and possess King Kaspar. If it’s trapped in Stonehenge

, how is that possible?”

“Ah.” Jak wagged a finger at Luc. “For a gardener, you’re clever.” His finger drew a line in the air until it reached Viggo. “For a witch’s boy, you aren’t.”

“For a Snow Child,” Viggo said coolly, “you’re full of sh—”

“Viggo!” Anouk chastised him. Viggo grumbled and sat back down on his medieval ottoman.

Jak leaned on the arm of the throne, the crown dangling from the sharp locks of his hair, and asked Luc coyly, “Say, not to change the subject, but would you care for a kiss?”

Anouk saw the hungry look in Jak’s eyes and shoved herself between the two of them. “Don’t,” she ordered Jak, and she gave Luc a warning look over her shoulder. “You know what happens if he kisses you.”

Jak sank back in the throne with a downturned mouth. “You’re spoiling all my fun.” He crooked his head to flash a smile to Luc. “Some things are worth the risk.”

Luc took a step backward and bumped into the clock-repair table.

Jak sighed and continued, “That handsome gardener is correct. Stonehenge was only the original vessel—?it is still a place of immense power, a place of transformation and blue flame, but it was time itself that those ancient Royals bound the Noirceur to, not the ancient stones. It can move, in a sense, from timepiece to timepiece. As the world evolved, there existed sundials, hourglasses, candle clocks, pendulums, pocket watches, digital clocks. The Noirceur resides in all of them. The Coven awakened the Noirceur in the timepieces that rest within the London city borders.”

“Isn’t the Noirceur in the black smoke too?”

“The smoke is a symptom. Poisonous, yes, but only a result of the Noirceur, not the Noirceur itself.”

Luc paced in front of the Nutcracker set with his hands tented in thought. “So we know that the Noirceur is trapped in time and that the Coven of Oxford has taken control of the Noirceur. It’s strengthening their power and letting them use technology but releasing chaos in the process.” Luc paced back the other way, tapping his fingers together. “If we don’t stop them, that chaos will spread from London to other cities. Black rainbows over Paris. Double or triple moons over Prague. For all we know, next the ocean will rise up and swallow us all whole. It stands to reason that to accomplish their grand aims, the witches would need an enormous vessel to contain the Noirceur. Something much larger than a single clock. Something the size of the original vessel. Stonehenge.”

“But in London,” Beau added.

Sitting over by the sarcophagi, Sinjin snorted. Anouk spun to face him; she had almost forgotten about the information broker. He was feeding his hare small pieces of pizza crust and wiping the grease on his white coat.

“Why do you laugh?” She didn’t like his tone.

“You don’t know London well, do you?”

Anouk leveled a cold look at him. “No. But then again, I’ve only been alive one year and I already seem to know more about the Haute than you do.” She tilted up her chin. “If you have information for sale, we can arrange a price.”

“Don’t pay him a cent,” Viggo said. “The answer is easy, if you know the city.” He jerked his chin toward a framed map of England among several other artworks being restored. “Look there, at London on the map . . . Big Ben.”

Anouk dragged the map away from the stack of paintings, coughing as a cloud of dust rose around her. She traced a finger over the antiquated writing until she found London and then a reference to Big Ben.